"And when they had sent away the multitude, they took him even as he was in the ship. And there was also with him other little ships. And there arose a great storm of wind, and the waves beat into the ship, so that it was now full. And he was in the hinder part of the ship, asleep on a pillow: and they awake him, and say unto him, Master, carest thou not that we perish? And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And he said unto them, Why are ye so fearful? How is that ye have no faith? And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?
Franz Joseph Haydn's Trumpet Concerto Part 1 Allegro is beautifully played here featuring Maurice Andre on trumpet. Haydn Trumpet Concerto Part I Allegro
TO THE EVENING STAR
by: William Blake (1757-1827)
- HOU fair-hair'd angel of the evening,
- Now, whilst the sun rests on the mountains, light
- Thy bright torch of love; thy radiant crown
- Put on, and smile upon our evening bed!
- Smile on our loves, and while thou drawest the
- Blue curtains of the sky, scatter thy silver dew
- On every flower that shuts its sweet eyes
- In timely sleep. Let thy west wind sleep on
- The lake; speak silence with thy glimmering eyes,
- And wash the dusk with silver. Soon, full soon,
- Dost thou withdraw; then the wolf rages wide,
- And then the lion glares through the dun forest:
- The fleeces of our flocks are cover'd with
- Thy sacred dew: protect them with thine influence!
And this also by William Blake for a little more mature audience, an interesting appraisal of mankind and the city where he spent most of his life. I chose it for its powerful imagery
I wander thro' each charter'd street,
Near where the charter'd Thames does flow,
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weariness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every Man,
In every voice, in every ban,
The mind-forg'd manacles I hear.
How the Chimney-sweeper's cry
Every black'ning Church appalls;
And the hapless Soldier's sigh
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most thro' midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot's curse
Blasts the new born Infant's tear,
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.